Fresh Air
by ViaRobin
Summary: For Christelle, Hogwarts is a fresh start. It's an escape from the mistakes she wishes she hadn't made. There, it's easy to forget. There are new friends to make, new things to learn and she's got to avoid getting into trouble. But the past can't stay gone forever... (Rated T for language)


_Hey there! This is my first fanfiction which I hope you like! I've rated it T for swearing/ blasphemy, just to warn ya. I'm sorry if you are religious because Chris says God damn it and Oh God a few times. Please read and review!_

 _Btw this story is Hogwarts from the point of view of my OC, Christelle Johnston. I doubt Harry etc. will appear very much and Chris will not be involved in all that Voldemort malarkey (in this book. She may become more involved later .)_

 _Via xx_

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 **Chapter 1 -** ** _An Early Start_**

The first thing I do when I wake up is yawn. It's understandable of course. I have to get up so early to be ready to go. Today's the day, after all. Today's the day I go to Hogwarts. Today's the day of my fresh start.

Groping in the near darkness, I reach past my broken alarm clock and grab my glasses. It's annoying but true: I can hardly see without them on. I get up without bothering to open my blinds. I just can't be arsed right now. I stroll across the landing, smiling as I watch the dust dancing in the early morning sunbeams. As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I nearly jump out of my skin when I see Marcus' face looming up at me.

"You're cutting it very fine, young lady!" he growls.

"What do y-" I begin, but Marcus cuts me off.

"It's quater past nine!" he spits.

"What?" There are a few seconds of silence before it clicks in my head. The alarm... The sunbeams... Oh god, how could I be so stupid? It's January! I suddenly burst into action: jumping in the shower; pulling on clothes; hauling my trunk, broom, everything downstairs into the car. The whole time Marcus doesn't even offer to help. He just stands at the bottom of the stairs tapping his foot. Very annoying.

"Right, let's go," Marcus says, grabbing the keys.

"Mum said she'd take me," I say, stupidly.

Marcus gives me his best I've-just-stepped-in-dog-shit stare. "Your mum's out. She had to go deliver a baby. That is how she makes money to pay for your upkeep. Maybe if you'd got up earlier you could have persuaded her to stay." He gives me a sly look. "Or maybe not."

This journey really is turning out worse than I'd planned.

After about an hour of driving, we reach the Leaky Cauldron. Marcus stops the car a few feet from the little pub and the two of us jump out. He stands next to me, tapping his foot again, as I open the boot and haul my trunk out.

"Where's this pub then?" Marcus asks. "The Leaky Cauldron, the man said..."

I stifle a laugh. I guess Muggles can't see it even if they're standing just a couple of feet away.

"It's here," I say, pointing. I wonder what Marcus sees - an old building, closed for renovations? Or is there some kind of charms your eyes just pass over it?

I don't get a chance to ask Marcus because at that second a stout, balding man starts walking over to us. Even in his Muggle business suit, there's something about him that just tells me he's a wizard.

"Yes?" Marcus spits. "What are you trying to sell us?"

"Me selling to you? I'm Jeremy Smith. Do I look like a salesman?" Dear God, he seems just as up-his-ass as Marcus. What do I do?

Marcus coughs violently. I think he's trying to stifle a laugh. Mr Smith doesn't even look like a salesman. Just a guy in a suit. What's Marcus' goddamn problem?

"Well, you're just the person I'm looking for," I say, before Marcus can start a fight. I stick out my hand to Mr Smith with a fake but cheesy smile. "Christelle Johnston, but call me Chris."

Mr Smith tuts. I'm pretty sure it's because he doesn't approve of 'Chris' as a nickname. I don't think we are going to get on very well.

"You're Hailey's friend, the one who's taking her to her school?" Marcus says, dismissively. I find myself wondering why Mum is even friends with Mr Smith. He seems like an asshole.

Mr Smith nods. "That I am."

"Can I leave you to it?" Marcus asks impatiently. "I have places to be."

I have to try hard not to laugh at that. Marcus has nowhere to be; he always has the weekend off. The only reason he's in such a hurry to get away is because the wizarding world is something Marcus knows barely anything about. One of the first things you learn when you meet Marcus is he absolutely hates - no, loathes - not knowing stuff. I bet he just wants to get out of here as fast as he can.

"Don't you want to say goodbye?" Mr Smith asks. He obviously hasn't realised Marcus and I don't really have a great daughter-stepdad relationship.

"See you," I say with a quick wave. I think Mr Smith was expecting a tearful hug or at least a promise to 'be a god girl' and 'write soon' but to be honest, I'm super glad I'm not going to see Marcus for six months. I'm sad I didn't get to say a proper goodbye to Mum, though. I guess that can't be helped. It was my own fault for sleeping in.

Marcus says a cold 'goodbye', gets in his car and drives off. At least he's gone now.

Mr Smith's eyes follow Marcus' car until it turns the corner and is out of sight. Then he turns to me.

"Zacharias will be here in a moment. He is just saying goodbye to his mother." He pauses. "My wife is Sally Smith, I'm not sure if you've heard of her. She had a two page spread in _Herbology Monthly_ last July."

Mr Smith goes on, showing off about Mrs Smith and Zacharias and their house and their ancestors and a whole load of other shit I don't care about until finally I get the chance to butt in.

"What house is Zacharias in?" I ask. I wouldn't say I'm worried about the Hogwarts house system, more... interested.

"Hufflepuff of course," he says, like it's common knowledge. "Our whole family has been Hufflepuff for generations. It's clearly the best house. If you are chosen for Hufflepuff you are a good friend to everyone."

He goes on again which is dull. Very dull. Both my parents were Gryffindor - brave. That's where I want to end up and I'm pretty sure I'm going to. The only other options are Ravenclaw - intelligent, Slytherin - sly and power hunting (though everyone's pretty sure they're evil) and Hufflepuff - loyal and kind. I'm far from intelligent, pretty sure I'm not evil and I'm far from kind. I speak Sarcasm as my first language.

Mr Smith is still off on some lame tangent about Hufflepuff, when a boy, who I presume to be Zacharias, walks over. He is not too tall but he looks like he will be one day, quite skinny and has carefully styled blonde hair and an upturned nose.

"Chris," I say and take his hand.

"Christelle," Mr Smith corrects.

"Can I call you Zach?" I ask, even though I don't really care. It's not like I'm going to speak to him for very long if he's anything like his dad.

"No," he replies, firmly. "Absolutely not."

I immediately decide I will call Zacharias 'Zach' forever now. Just because.

Zach turns to his dad. "When are we leaving?"

"I just need to check something in Diagon Alley and then we'll head over to King's Cross." Mr Smith says. He bustles us into the Leaky Cauldron before realising I've never been here before. "Do you know how we get there?"

I laugh. "My mum's told me _all_ about it."


End file.
